


Silver Moonlight

by ShootMeDead



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, More chapters to be added - Freeform, No Slash, Protective Thranduil, Reunions, The Author Did Zero Research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8817670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShootMeDead/pseuds/ShootMeDead
Summary: COLLECTION OF ONESHOTSThranduil knew, then, just as he knew when he held that bundle of light and happiness in his arms the very first time, he would do anything to protect that child. His child. His son. His little Greenleaf.FAMILY & FRIENDSHIP FICSNO SLASH(More stand-alone chapters will be added. Requests are welcome.)





	1. The Siege

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all mistakes you find are mine. Let me know if/when you find any. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Lord Of The Rings or The Hobbit. 
> 
> Happy reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While facing yet another hopeless battle, help comes from a surprising ally. Reunions ahead!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you find any mistakes, please let me know.

**TITLE:**   **THE SIEGE**

**ONESHOT**

**SUMMARY:** **While facing yet another hopeless battle, help comes from a surprising ally. Reunions ahead!**

* * *

The battle had been raging for what seemed like hours.

It looked eerily reminiscent of the Battle of Helms Deep. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas were fighting against orcs, uruk-hai, goblins and oliphaunts, to protect the people.

The city where the battle was occurring, though it was considered a part of Gondor, was in an interesting location. In the past, it had been a centre for one of the major trade routes between Greenwood, Gondor and Rohan. But as time passed, other routes were favoured more, and people migrated from that city to make their homes elsewhere.

Since before the days of Lord Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, the city had been slowly cut off from the kingdom, by no fault of anyone. But, fortunately, the city wasn't utterly dependent on Minas Tirith, and Gondor by extension, that their livelihood would be affected drastically. Against all odds, it had flourished as much as it could. It was a peaceful place. But that peace had been hard won. The leaders of the city had realised that in case of any attack or siege upon their home, if or when any help arrived, it would be too late. So, they had fortified their city as much as they could and it had helped them withstand any orc attacks.

Aragorn, after being crowned as the High King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor, had sought to bring that elusive city back into the folds of his kingdom, or at the very least establish trade arrangements between the two. So Aragorn, since he had been growing restless, had decided to conduct the negotiations in person. He took his guard _(he tried to refuse of course, but he couldn't stand against the deadpan look of Faramir, his faithful Steward),_ and he was joined by his companions Legolas and Gimli.

The journey from Minas Tirith, on horseback, would have taken more or less a week. They had prepared accordingly and set off.

After 3 days, they were joined by Gandalf who brought with him grave tidings. He had news of the orcs, uruk-hai and other fell beasts that had survived the Fall of Sauron, when Frodo Baggins, with the help of his dear friend Sam Gamgee, had destroyed the One Ring. They had all gathered together and were marching upon the very city Aragorn and his companions were travelling to.

* * *

_As soon as Gandalf had given them the news, Legolas and Gimli, as one, had turned to glare at Aragorn._

_As if it was somehow Aragorn's fault!_

_"You have the worst luck known to Men, laddie," growled Gimli._

_Aragorn stared in fascination as Legolas' eye twitched._

* * *

Gandalf had, as was expected of him, said something which sounded very wise but was in truth extremely confusing, and left immediately. They inferred that he would bring help. Aragorn sent a messenger back to Minas Tirith nevertheless.

Just like it was in Helms Deep, they arrived at their destination two days before the leftover army of Mordor did. The news of the impending siege was spread and the people prepared to defend their homes.

Though Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and the King's guards were trained for battle and had experienced it, the people of the city were no soldiers. They were lacking in numbers too. But what they lacked, they made up in grim determination to protect their families and children.

The day of the battle arrived.

The enemy army was smaller than the one at the Battle of Helms Deep, but they still outnumbered the defenders four to one.

The moment before it all started, the entire world seemed to freeze. Time was suspended. No one breathed. The silence, _the_ _anticipation_ , was overwhelming.

Before anyone could blink, the battle had commenced. Archers slew down lines of orcs. There were two oliphaunts at the back of the seemingly endless army of orcs and goblins. By mutual agreement, it was accepted that when the giant beasts were a threat, Legolas would be the one to handle them.

The people of the city fought like men _possessed_ , their every action ringing with desperation and fury. The entire fight seemed hopeless. The odds were stacked against them. But still, they fought.

Legolas and Gimli were like twin hurricanes, each complimenting the other perfectly, protecting the other's back and covering the blind spots. Legolas was leading the number of orcs killed by four.

Blood singing in his veins, Gimli swung his axe at a goblin creeping up behind Aragorn. As the battle ebbed and flowed, the three friends were taken along with it. When they were brought near each other, they fought back to back, other times, they were like a whirlwind, cutting down their enemies. The bloodlust of the battle inflamed them.

Hours passed. They still fought.

Hours passed. The men tired. They still fought.

The battle carried on till dawn, the entirety of night passed in a cacophony of swords clashing, dying screams and battle cries.

The men were losing hope. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli exchanged grim looks. They were going to see it to the end, no matter what end it maybe.

The orcs had realised that the three of them together was bad for their continued survival. And so, they were lured away from each other and were surrounded. But if the orcs had thought they would be easily defeated, they were sorely mistaken.

The battle raged on. Dawn had broken over the city.

Legolas was suddenly filled with a wild, almost desperate hope. His laugh rang out like the pure chiming of bells, lifting many hearts from despair.

Aragorn and Gimli exchanged a worried look. Was it possible that the elf had received a blow to the head?

A loud, ringing horn sounded.

As one, both armies turned towards the sound.

There, just like in Helms Deep, Gandalf sat astride Shadowfax, with the sun blazing at his back. Right next to him, was the reason for Legolas' joy.

Face set in an ice cold mask, eyes blazing with the wrath of an enraged parent, was the Elven King Thranduil, the father of Legolas. He had the might of Mirkwood behind him.

The cheers of men filled the air as hope was restored.

The orcs fought with even more desperation. They knew that their end was near.

The elven archers picked out the deserters who were running away, in a desperate bid to save themselves.

The Elven King himself waded into the fray. His hair whipped around him like molten silver, accentuated by the glittering sun, as he twisted and turned on nimble feet, his sword flashing as he cut down, mercilessly, any orc, uruk-hai or goblin dumb enough to stand in his way to his son's side. His eyes were like twin stones of blue diamonds, freezing his enemies in fear, giving him the single second required to behead them with ease.

The elven warriors fought their way to the men of the city, helping them and protecting them. The healers worked diligently, trying to save everyone who was hurt or, at the very least, ease their pain.

Later, songs would be sung and tales would be told of two elves, their hair like spun moon light, looking so similar, their beauty captivating everyone who laid their eyes on them, who brought down the two oliphaunts. The motion of the elves would be described akin to a dance of grace as they moved liked a silvery river, flowing swiftly yet serenely onwards.

After the battle ended, the last orc caught and killed, most everyone had retreated to the city to rest and to heal. Hence, there weren't much people around to witness the reunion between father and son.

If Aragorn or Gimli noticed the wet sheen in Thranduil's eyes, the elf rumoured to have ice for a heart, they didn't mention it. If the other elves noticed how hard Legolas and his father clutched at each other, how Thranduil looked ready to bundle up his son in his own, long robes and take him right back to Mirkwood and never let him out of his sight again, they made sure their soft smiles weren't visible.

All the two royal elves cared about, at that moment, was that they were together, whole and healthy, after what felt like an eternity apart.

Since Legolas had left his father in Mirkwood, to go to Rivendell as the representative for the wood elves, before the Fellowship was formed, he had yearned to see his father again. During times of despair, on the path to Mordor, only the thoughts of his father and his hope to see him again had helped him fight off the darkness, to find light again.

Waiting for a loved one to return home isn't something to laugh about either. For an elf, for whom an eternity could be considered a mere blink of an eye, every day waiting for Legolas to come home felt like an eternity to Thranduil. He kept waiting for some news, _any new_ s, hoping that the news wouldn't be of his only son's demise. Some days, the only thing that helped him to even get up from his bed was Thranduil's memories of a young Legolas, always running around the palace and charming the guards or trailing after his father, tugging on his father's sleeves, all the while chattering in his sweet voice, " _Ada, why does it rain?"_ or _"Ada, can I have some more blueberry pie?"_ or just say _"Ada..."_ in a small voice while looking up at the King with his wide, soft blue eyes, and lifting his hands up, wanting to be carried by his father.

Thranduil took a deep breath and pulled back, placing his hands on either of Legolas' shoulders. His face was composed again, but his eyes gave away the utter elation that he felt on being reunited with his son again as they memorized his son's features all over again. Legolas bore his father's scrutiny with his usual patience, a pleased smile tugging at his mouth.

Thranduil placed a palm on Legolas' cheek. Legolas leaned into it and said softly, _reassuringly_ , " _Ada,_ I'm well."

"My little green leaf," Thranduil whispered, resting his forehead on Legolas'.

It was like a weight had lifted off of them. A weight that they hadn't realised was present, oppressing them in every way, until it was gone.

"Let's go home," Thranduil said, simply.

Legolas nodded.

" _Ada,_ I hope you don't mind my friends coming along with us."

"Of course, _ionneg_. Who are they?"

"This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, High King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor," introduced Legolas. Aragorn gave a short bow which Thranduil returned.

Legolas then turned to Gimli, blithely ignoring the way Thranduil's eyes widened.

"And this, _ada_ , is Gimli, son of Gloín, from Erebor."

It was clear that Gimli was smirking at the Elven King from under his beard. Thranduil looked to his son, whose eyes were impossibly wide, the blue almost hypnotic. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"Well met, Master Dwarf," said Thranduil, giving a regal nod grudgingly.

"Aye," replied Gimli, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Well met, indeed, O Elven King."

Thranduil grimaced. The things he puts up with for the sake of his son.

But looking at Legolas and seeing how happy he appears, Thranduil _knew_ he'd do anything to keep his son smiling always.

Even if it means inviting a _dwarf_ into his kingdom.

* * *

_The messenger that Aragorn sent, reached the helpful and gorgeous Faramir who immediately dispatched the best warriors to go to their King. They reached the city after all the fighting was over but stayed behind to help the people with their rebuilding. Aragorn sent back a message to Faramir and Arwen that he, along with Gimli and Legolas, would be visiting Mirkwood and that the negotiations with the city could be carried out after the people had healed and the city rebuilt. The message would have caused much consternation to Faramir while Arwen laughed at him._

* * *

_Translations (from Arwen-Undomiel)_

_Ada -_ Daddy.

 _Ionneg -_ My son.

 


	2. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are mine. If you find them, please let me know.

**SUMMARY :**

_**Greenwood is weathering a very harsh storm. The Prince is missing. Thranduil is losing his mind.** _

* * *

 

With a barely withheld sigh, Thranduil waved off the last of his council members. He pinched the top of his nose, closing his eyes tightly. Council meetings were always so tedious; the last one had been even more so. Anyhow, the meeting was over now.

 _'I wonder where Legolas is,'_ Thranduil thought, lips turning up in a soft smile at the thought of his son.

He tilted his head to the side as his sensitive ears caught the rumble of thunder. It was the monsoon season and the elves had foreseen a harsh storm.

Thranduil got up from his seat, gracefully, and walked out of the room. He decided to meet with the Captain of his Guard and enquire about the various guards stationed in the Greenwood. Even though Thranduil projected a cold persona, the truth of the matter was that he cared about every elf under his rule, no matter their station, and he would not see them suffer needlessly. After that, he would go to his son who was probably being minded by one of the _ellyth_.

The Captain bowed low on seeing his King. Thranduil inclined his head slightly, acknowledging him. They discussed about the welfare of the guards stationed at the outskirts of the forest and also about the security. Just as their conversation wound to a close, the sound of light feet running towards them reached their ears. The Captain immediately tensed up, placing a steady hand on his sword hanging by his hip, ready to protect his King at a moment's notice.

"My King!" It was the _elleth_ who had been taking care of Legolas.

"Prince Legolas is missing, milord!"

Thranduil's face smoothed out into a cold mask. The only clue to his worry was the furrow between his eyebrows and the way his eyes had darkened to a stormy grey.

"What do you mean by _missing_?" He asked, sharply. "I thought he was with you. It is your duty to take care of the Prince, is it not?"

The _elleth_ fidgeted, her mouth twisting in worry and apprehension.

"Yes, _hîr vuin_ ," she said, agreeing. "The Prince has a habit of sneaking off to play hide and seek without letting anyone know, sire. He was sleeping when I checked on him earlier. But now, he is gone."

"And why aren't you looking for him?" Thranduil asked, with a voice so cold that the elleth blanched.

"The Prince likes to visit the training grounds, _aran nîn._ I was looking for him here when I ran into you," she said, glancing furtively at the King and the Captain.

Thranduil inhaled sharply.

"Get everyone to search for the Prince," he ordered, silkily, his eyes flashing with threats. "Search everywhere. He might be hiding anywhere in the palace. Go!"

She gave a short bow and hurried away.

What he didn't tell and yet the elleth understood was that if the Prince wasn't found or was found in a less than ideal condition, it would be on her head.

Thranduil rushed to the training grounds, his Captain at his side. The thunder crashed fiercely overhead as lightning lit up the skies in an eerie manner.

The training grounds were empty. But the gates leading to the forest was ajar.

The rain was pouring down in waves. The wind lashed out at the trees, making them creak ominously.

"Get the other guards," Thranduil shouted to make himself heard over the thunder. "I am certain that Legolas went into the forest. I am going out to search for my son."

The Captain protested but the King was already slithering out of his unwanted royal robes. Armed with only his sword, the terrified father ran out in search of his son, who might be lost in the forest, during one of the dangerous storms to have occurred in years.

His clothes were sopping wet and clinging to his frame. He was utterly drenched and his silvery hair stuck to the sides of his face.

"Legolas!" Thranduil shouted, hoping for an answering shout.

He jumped over brambles and broken branches littering the path, grace forgotten in the face of heart-racing urgency. He sharpened his senses and listened for any sign that he could use to pinpoint his son's location. He _knew_ , instinctively, that his little Greenleaf was out in the forest. He knew and yet, he did not know where, and he was going out of his mind with worry.

_Oh Valar, please, not Legolas. Please let him be safe, please, please, I can not lose him, not like I lost his mother, please oh Valar protect him, LegolasLegolasLegolasmylittleGreenleaf._

Thranduil wiped away the rain falling on his eyes with a shaking hand. He tried to ignore the mounting terror.

_Where could he be!!??_

Thranduil made himself stop for a minute and take a calming breath.

_Where would Legolas go when he finds the elements turned against him? What are the places he knows in this forest?_

In a flash, he turned and darted away, the image of an old, ancient and huge tree filling his mind. He remembered the clearing under the tree which was sheltered and could recall in perfect detail the day he spent there with little Legolas.

Branches, stripped of leaves, lashed out at him as he ran, mindless of his clothes tearing, heedless of the cuts on his face that bled in a sluggish manner.

* * *

 

_It had been a few weeks since Thranduil had been able to spend uninterrupted time with his pride and joy. Hence, he had explicitly stated that he was not to be disturbed for the entire day. He knew he would receive criticism from certain elves, but it was all worth it to see Legolas' young face lighting up with utter delight, his innocent eyes filling with awe and unabashed adoration for his father._

_"Legolas,_ pen tithen _, look at this tree. Feel how ancient and strong it truly is. Listen to its tales, the various years it has witnessed, the lives it had sheltered, the numerous storms it has weathered. Listen to it all and notice how strong, how steadfast it still stands."_

_Legolas had gazed up at the great branches, the thick vines curling up the enormous trunk, with wonder in his eyes._

_"_ Ada _," he breathed out. "It's so beautiful."_

_Thranduil laughed softly at the awestruck look on his child's face. He scooped up his son into his arms, enfolding him, and delighted in the sheer joy in Legolas' surprised giggles._

_He knew, then, just as he knew when he held that bundle of light and happiness in his arms for the very first time, he would do_ anything _to protect that child._ His _child. His son. His little Greenleaf._

* * *

 

Back in the present, Thranduil moved nearer to the clearing.

"Legolas!" He shouted again.

No answer.

"Legolas!" His voice caught and broke around something disturbingly similar to a sob.

Nothing other than the wind howling and the trees creaking under its onslaught. The rain was falling even harder as though determined to drown out everything else.

Thranduil was swiftly despairing.

 _"Ada!"_ A plaintive cry, carried by the wind, reached his ears.

"Legolas!"

Filled with renewed hope, his heart thundering in his chest, Thranduil broke into the clearing. His eyes darted around, adjusting to the dark. He caught sight of a bundle, huddled at the very base of the tree.

_"Ada!"_

Thranduil rushed towards Legolas, and fell to his knees in front of the child curled up with his chin tucked within his arms. With a wordless cry, Thranduil gathered the shaking form of his son into the protective circle of his arms, one hand tucking Legolas' head into his neck, while the other simply held him close.

Tiny hands clutched at Thranduil's hair and clothes as Legolas shook with the cold and overwhelming relief. Thranduil pressed kisses over Legolas' face, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his chin. He was breathless as the bone-chilling terror drained out of him, after finding his son whole and unharmed.

"Come on, _ionneg_ " Thranduil whispered, hugging Legolas close to himself. "Let's go home."

Legolas clutched at his father tighter, unwilling to let go even for a moment.

Thranduil climbed to his feet, carrying Legolas with him. The elfling wrapped his legs around his father, his arms around his neck and hid his face in the crook of his father's neck.

Whispering soothing words, while dragging a calm hand down the little one's back whenever Legolas whimpered due to loud thunder or bright lightning, Thranduil quickly but carefully made his way back home, all the while taking careful consideration that no wayward branch hurts his son.

Midway, they were joined by the guards who immediately formed ranks around them and cleared an easy path back.

* * *

 

Thranduil would not let Legolas out of his sight for months, his nights filled with terrifying dreams of losing Legolas in a dark that he could not see through, someplace where he could not find him even though he could hear his son crying out for him.

* * *

 

_Later, Legolas would tell his father, quietly, voice filled with utter confidence, innocent silver eyes, holding steadfast belief and faith, looking solemnly into another set of dark silver eyes, "I knew you would come for me, Ada. I knew you would find me."_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations (courtesy of various websites):
> 
> Hîr vuin- My Lord  
> Aran nîn- My King  
> Ada- Father/ Dad  
> Ionneg- My son  
> Pen tithen- Little one  
> Elleth- Female elf (s.)  
> Ellyth- Female elves (p.)
> 
> ***
> 
> A/N: 
> 
> If you would like me to write anything in particular about Thranduil and Legolas Greenleaf, please mention it in the comments and I'll try my best to write one for you.
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry for not updating my other stories but this just HAD to be written. The mental image of Thranduil coming to his son's aid while cutting down everyone in his path, in his glorious rage, while saying in a calm and frigid manner, "How. Dare. You. Try. To Hurt. MY. SON!" just wouldn't go away. I know of no other fics in which Thranduil and Legolas fight together or one comes to the aid of other. Also, there seems to be an insulting shortage of family fics between these two.
> 
> So, this is my contribution.
> 
> And, I did almost ZERO RESEARCH for this fic, other than looking at the map of Middle Earth.I tried to keep it as general as possible. But, if you find any horrifying mistakes, please forgive me and remind yourself that it is just fiction. XD
> 
> And since I suck at naming, I decided to just keep it as 'the city'. If anyone comes up with a good enough name, I'll consider naming it with that.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it. I appreciate your comments and kudos.
> 
> EDIT: I'll, most probably, be adding more to the work. More oneshots, similar to this one, about Thranduil and Legolas. So, subscribe to the story if you want.
> 
> If you would like me to write anything in particular about Thranduil and Legolas Greenleaf, please mention it in the comments and I'll try my best to write one for you.


End file.
